


In The Frozen

by purpleheize



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Azure Moon Route, Dorovain Weekend 2020, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Homesickness, Post-Canon, Snowed In, angst if you squint, did you know a blanket for a horse is called a saddle blanket, no beta we die like Glenn, you learn new things everyday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:20:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26659618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpleheize/pseuds/purpleheize
Summary: The heavy hitting dread of the cold wouldn’t last long upon realizing Sylvain is making his way back to their manor before the blizzard hits. Making his way home. To their home. It’s been a little over 5 months since they held their spring wedding, when Gautier was a bit warmer. Since then, she’s begun a new life in a new country,in a new territory. The reality of no longer living in the muggy streets of the coastline hasn’t fully settled in. Nor has changing her last name. Dorothea Gautier. A name so peculiar, yet exciting.Life here is still new. I just need to adjust, is her line of thought. Reassurance, if you will.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: DoroVain Weekend 2020





	In The Frozen

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Dorovain Weekend! I've been looking forward to writing for this pairing for a while, so glad to finally get the chance to publish this.

Gautier’s wintertide is vastly different from the humid coastal city of Enbarr. Sharpened icy winds howling, accompanied by the visuals of silvery landscapes instead of the thunderous sounds of traffic, the sea breeze making one’s hair feel sebaceous. Dorothea does admit, she very much preferred to dress up for chilly Gautier weather over dressing down for the former Empire heat. It’s not like her new home doesn’t have its advantages, but that thought alone isn’t enough to soothe her homesickness. A blizzard is due to hit close to Gautier manor soon. She watches piles and piles of snow blanket the estate’s gardens, the trees practically hidden from her sight. The heavy weather only makes her chest ache more. Heeled boots pace away from the manor’s windows; she feels blinded by the sights of pure white. She tugs her fur cloak closer to her body. It does little to repress the chills in her spine. Dealing with such conditions makes her question how her husband hates the heat, yet can stand such depressing weather. Faerghus men truly are built differently. 

She did carry one burden in her chest, one she had trouble shaking off. She had feared after marrying into a noble family that she would spend her days bored, inside a much too large house than what she is used to. That she be cast aside while her noble spouse leaves to fulfill their duties. That the honeymoon phase wears off, and she is left lonely. Faerghus culture being vastly different makes her feel out of place; a fish out of water. It only makes her homesickness stronger. 

Was she beginning to regret her marriage? She shakes her head at the thought. It’s much too soon to think that.

The heavy hitting dread of the cold wouldn’t last long upon realizing Sylvain is making his way back to their manor before the blizzard hits. Making his way home. To their home. It’s been a little over 5 months since they held their spring wedding, when Gautier was a bit warmer. Since then, she’s begun a new life in a new country,in a new territory. The reality of no longer living in the muggy streets of the coastline hasn’t fully settled in. Nor has changing her last name. Dorothea Gautier. A name so peculiar, yet exciting. 

Life here is still new. I just need to adjust, is her line of thought. Reassurance, if you will.

___________________________________________________________________________

Distant trampling of horseshoes echo against the hardened path. The snow piling on the road leading to the manor had been cleared out hours before Sylvain and his mens’ arrival. Making his way towards the stables, Sylvain mindlessly stables his inky coated mount, Andres, before pitching out the saddle blanket to dress stallion up for the weather. 

“Bundle up, big guy” he mutters to the horse as if it can speak, stroking Andres jet black mane.

He admits, he’s glad he postponed his meeting in former Alliance territory. There was no possible way he would make it to his destination alive with such a monstrous storm headed his path. He had a packed schedule as soon as he and Dorothea returned from their honeymoon. With reunification with the old Alliance and the fall of the former Empire, there were tasks left and right. Many treaties to sign and resistance groups to neutralize. But this storm puts all of this traveling to a pause. His responsibilities as Margrave will simply have to wait until the weather is clear. 

He missed his wife. He missed Dorothea’s company. They were newlyweds, yet why did he feel lonely? Traveling with the Gautier troops just doesn’t feel the same as being embraced by your wife. This blizzard will come out to be a blessing in disguise. 

He ushers himself towards the manor entrance so rapidly he might as well have sprinted his way inside. 

I really fucking miss my wife.

___________________________________________________________________________

Warm kisses, lavished with carmine tinted lipstick, stain Sylvain’s cold cheeks.

“Welcome home, darling. How was your pro-longed trip?” She teases, hands clutching his broad shoulders. Cold gloved hands latching behind her waist.

“Dreadfully long, I thought I was going to age,” He plays along with her teasing. He knows they had only just seen each other 2 days ago, but he isn’t entirely lying about how dreadfully long it's been since he last spent time with her. “But I’m happy to be home. I feel I haven’t truly been home in so long.”

“Well you better go take a hot bath, you’re freezing… How do you not feel cold?” asking as she strokes his arm. His teal raglan doesn’t seem like a thick enough fabric to keep out the harsh chills.

“You know what I’ve said before.”

She sighs.

Faerghus men are truly built differently. That line might as well be a Church of Seiros commandment. 

“I know… but you should still consider a bath, I don’t want you getting sick on me” 

“As you wish, love” He gives her a quick peck before pacing towards the bathhouse.  
________________________________________________________________________

The light outside has long departed, the storm outside not allowing the sun to be visible behind thick clouds. The couple already bathed and in their nightclothes, stomachs full from the cook’s supper. Both huddled on the burgundy loveseat in front of a crackling fireplace. It’s a common sight for the pair. Prior to wedding each other, Dorothea would travel north to stay at Gautier manor for a moon, spending many nights entangled in his arms. They’d discuss everything and nothing. It was an experience the pair could never feel sick of. Even as students at Garreg Mach, executing their lustful escapades in each other’s dorm, they would converse openly until sunrise. No topic too taboo.

It was just so.. Perfect. The level of comfort and trust in each other. To think they had been distrustful of each other in the past.

It doesn’t take long for things to heat up on the loveseat, with pecks becoming passionate kisses, bite marks on their necks and shoulders, clothes disposed of. Having done much exploring of each other's bodies in their 20’s, the duo knows what the other likes, what makes them gasp, what makes them submit. So much intensity occurring its miracle the loveseat hasn’t collapsed under them. 

His mouth on her supple breasts, her kisses down his happy trail, his mouth devouring her core until her legs shake and go numb. He knew Dorothea must have felt so alone these few months, and he wants to compensate her for that. They fucked with fervor, made love with sweetness. The world outside of them did not exist in these moments. Neither of them was aware of the blizzard raging outside. No amount of ice could sustain the heat of their intimacy. By sunrise, the newlyweds have long fallen asleep entangled in each other's limbs. The maids knew better than to wake them up when they were so comfortable. 

By the next morning, Dorothea wakes up feeling sore between her legs.

Faerghus me truly are built differently.

__________________________________________________________________________

**Author's Note:**

> So as you can tell, I don't live anywhere where it snows lol. In fact I was in my humid hometown in Mexico at the time of writing this (20 points to whoever can guess my city!)  
> I was listening to In The Frozen by Dreamcatcher as I wrote the first half. I thought the lyrics about a single flower in the cold was fitting for our lovely songstress in the Azure Moon route.  
> During the.. sexy times part.. I was listening to Wonderland by Dreamcatcher, which I think is a very sweet song.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I'm looking forward to seeing and writing more Dorovain content in the future! If you love this pairing as much as I do, follow me on twitter (@psiodyne) I can be really funny sometimes lol


End file.
